George Dillon - Beauty Intolerable

Finding her body woven
As if of flame and snow,
I thought, however often
My pulses cease to go,
Whipped by whatever pain
Age or disease appoint,
I shall not be again
So jarred in every joint,
So mute, amazed, and taut,
And winded of my breath,
Beauty being at my throat
More savagely than death.

George Dillon

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/beauty-intolerable/